


need it

by maddielle



Series: that big picture 'verse [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Banshee Lydia Martin, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Loss of Virginity, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Multi, Pack Dynamics, Smut, Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes Live
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:42:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22438933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddielle/pseuds/maddielle
Summary: "Derek. I’ve only been waiting for you to snatch up my v-card and rip it to shreds with your claws for the past, like, two years now. At least. You don’t even have to ask, man. If there weren’t five other supernatural beings hanging around, I’d climb you like a tree right here, right now.”“Get it, Stilinski!” Jackson hollered from back by the fire pit.“You wish you could!” Stiles shot over his shoulder.Derek asks Stiles a question at a pack bonfire; Stiles responds.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Series: that big picture 'verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1614649
Comments: 8
Kudos: 529





	1. pack night

**Author's Note:**

> set a year after the pack graduates high school, about two months after _favourite boy_
> 
> rated explicit for part two

Stiles phone rang just as he exited the grocery store, arms laden down by heavy bags. He cursed, squinting in the bright evening sunlight, and scurried back to the Jeep where he dumped his load in the passenger seat and fumbled to answer the call.

“Make it quick,” he greeted. “I have ice cream in the car.”

“What’s up, nerd.”

“Jackson. So lovely to hear your voice. What can I do for you?”

“Lydia has an updated list of stuff she wants you to get.”

Stiles sighed. “I literally just left the store, dude. Am I even getting reimbursed for this? Not everyone has a fancy job at a law office, you know.”

Jackson growled audibly. “Come on, Stilinski, I’m just trying to keep her happy. You know how long she’s been planning this.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stiles closed the car door. “Alright, hit me.”

Later, along with two more bags filled with such strongly requested items like sparkling water and fresh lettuce for burgers, Stiles finally pulled out of the store parking lot and set out on the main road through the town centre towards the Martin lake house.

When the house came into view at the end of the private driveway about twenty minutes later, he was evidently the last to arrive, having worked a full day until five pm. He carefully pulled in between Scott’s beaten up Toyota and Jackson’s Porsche, not immediately recognizing the red Honda parked to one side but figuring it was Isaac’s new ride. Selling the old Lahey house had really given him a good head start in life, financially speaking.

Then, parked deliberately in the shade of a tall pine, the Camaro.

“Alright,” Stiles said out loud, hopping out of his car. “I know that there is at least one werewolf within a one-mile radius who can hear me right now, and, if nobody comes to help me carry all this food in, I’m gonna leave the good stuff behind to melt. The choice is yours.”

He didn’t have to wait too long before Scott and Boyd jogged around the side of the house.

“Hey, man,” Scott greeted him, taking more bags in one hand than Stiles would probably be able to manage in two.

“Scotty. Boyd.” Stiles nodded at each of them. “Thank you for your chivalry. Hope you haven’t been having too much fun without me.”

“We’ve already played three rounds of truth or dare,” Boyd said, poker-faced, grabbing the rest of the food and closing the trunk of the Jeep with his free hand. “Derek sang a beautiful rendition of Let It Go, and Erica made out with Lydia for two minutes. Isaac shaved off his eyebrows.”

Together, they started for the path rounding back of the house.

“See, I know you’re joking,” Stiles said, having gotten away with only carrying a tub of ice cream against his chest. “But I would pay handsomely to see all of those things occur. At the same time, if possible.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Scott said, amused, as the backyard of the cottage came into view. As always, the view of the lake from the headland on which the house was situated was perfect. The late evening sun had coloured the water pink and orange. Nothing but rich, dark forest was visible for miles, and the gentle lapping of waves on the rocky beach below the cliff was music to Stiles’ human ears. He could only imagine the kind of auditory relief the wolves experienced in this little spot of paradise. He knew it was why most pack meetups were held here.

The majority of the group were seated around a smouldering fire pit, either lounging on the ground or perched on the ring of logs arranged loosely in a circle. Erica and Lydia were deep in conversation, Isaac opposite them, having just set a marshmallow on fire. Danny was patting him on the shoulder, handing him a fresh one.

“My people,” Stiles announced. “Food and drink have arrived.”

With a delicate flick of her hair, Lydia stood and appraised the three bearers of groceries. “Excellent,” she said airily. “Everything cold in the fridge or freezer, please. Leave the meat out; Jackson’s starting up the barbeque in a moment.”

Stiles offloaded his ice cream into Scott’s capable hands and went to sit on Erica’s other side as their alpha and Boyd disappeared indoors.

“Erica,” he greeted, stretching out his legs. “Enjoying your week in Beacon Hills? Everything how you remembered it?”

Erica let out a laugh, shaking out blonde curls now cut up to her shoulders. “I can’t imagine much changing, even after two years.”

“Yup. Life stays slow around here.”

“Even slower up north,” she said, with a shrug. A soft smile graced her face as she watched Boyd re-emerge from the house. “We don’t mind it so much, though.”

Stiles shook his head. “Not sure how you guys survived the winter, to be honest. In an igloo? In a compound of igloos?”

“It’s easier for wolves,” she reminded him. “Especially in a large group.”

“Ah, yes. The shiny new pack.”

Erica elbowed him in the ribs, hard. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Like what?” Boyd asked, taking Lydia’s seat. The redhead had vanished in search of drinks.

“Like the two of you deciding Canadians make for more interesting company than we do,” Stiles teased.

Boyd huffed and shook his head. “We’re guests. It’s been good to take time to travel around, meet different people, but, honestly, being with everyone here again…” He trailed off.

“It feels right,” Erica supplied. “It always has. This is our pack.” She made eye contact with Isaac across the firepit, who grinned adorably and ducked his head.

“Damn right it is,” Stiles agreed. He closed his eyes and basked for a moment in the warmth provided by the glowing coals and the last rays of a dipping sun. He then opened them and glanced around. “Speaking of pack, we seem to be short a few members.”

“Derek and Jackson went for a swim,” Danny told him, nodding a head towards the lake. “Well, they tackled each other into the water.”

“Off the edge of the _cliff?_ I thought it was too shallow for jumping.”

“Not if you can jump far enough,” Erica said, singsong.

“See, that’s just showing off,” Stiles stated, leaning back on his log. “It’s not fair to partake in fun cottage activities that half of us would break our necks attempting. Maybe I want to go for a swim. Who’s to stop _me_ from trying to jump in the lake from up here?”

“I am.”

Stiles was engulfed suddenly in an extremely wet hug from behind, water soaking his back. He yelped and struggled against the unforgiving hold, eventually giving up and scowling as Derek kissed his cheek and moved to sit beside him. Stiles shot him a dirty look, but he couldn’t keep it up for long. This close, he could pick out laugh lines and the pink flush of physical activity in Derek’s face. Stiles felt his own heartbeat kick up a notch.

“You’re a menace,” he muttered. “You get your fill of doggy paddle for the day?”

“Might head back out again later.”

“See if I let you sit next to me when you start smelling like wet dog.”

“Hey, Stilinski,” Jackson interrupted, standing to one side and scrubbing dry his hair with a towel. “Have I told you how amazing and original your dog jokes have been recently? Really, it’s incredible.”

“I could stand to be told again,” Stiles tossed back.

“Boys.” Lydia had reappeared, arms folded in her cardigan. She gave Jackson a pointed look. “The barbeque is ready to go. Give a lady a hand?”

The next few hours passed in a steady stream of burgers, hot dogs, and enough snacks to keep the horde happy and satisfied while stories were traded over the rekindled fire and everyone caught up on each other’s lives. Lydia reported proudly on the top-tier research she was involved with while Jackson gazed at her in obvious admiration. Isaac revealed his growing interest in environmental biology, and Danny and Stiles gave scant details about their potential future plans to start doing freelance IT work after graduation.

After some prodding on his life, even Derek gave a few updates on the construction of the house, and how being in Beacon Hills by himself for the past year had been.

“I’m glad you’ll have a legit place to live, finally,” Erica said, before taking a sizeable swig of a beer. “Definitely a step up from creepy abandoned warehouses.”

“Thanks, Erica.”

“Enough about that, though. I wanna hear about something else.”

“What do you want to hear about?” Derek said, frowning.

“Dude,” Jackson cut in. “You and Stilinski. Dating.”

“Finally,” Isaac tacked on.

“Everyone else got the story,” Erica continued, smirking. “Some of us weren’t around. C’mon.”

In the following pause in the conversation, Derek looked down at his hands and seemed to clam up in the face of the pack’s curiosity, so Stiles took pity on him.

“There’s really not much to know,” he said, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “I was home for spring break, we hung out a few times. It just kind of… happened naturally.” He caught the brief edge of Derek’s smile. “I guess it’d been coming for a long time.”

Erica took another swig of her drink and sniffed, considering his words.

“That’s horribly clichéd,” she proclaimed. “And boring, after all that build up. McCall, what about you?” 

As the line of questioning turned to Scott, Stiles slid a deliberate hand onto Derek’s thigh and rubbed in small circles with his thumb thoughtfully. He’d been telling the truth, only leaving out a couple of important details like the feeling of cool March air blowing through his hair as he’d driven over to Derek’s apartment with single-minded determination. The blend of hope and nerves written all over Derek’s face when he’d answered the door. How they’d hugged, supposed to have said goodbye before Stiles left again for school, ended up kissing in the doorway.

Derek’s hand covered his, squeezed, and Stiles turned his own over to slot their fingers together. Not everything had to be pack business, he supposed.

The evening was winding down when Stiles followed Lydia into the kitchen of the house, his arms laden with bottles to be recycled and various kitchenware to be washed. He set everything down in the sink and started with rinsing out glasses.

“So, Lydia.”

“Stiles.”

“What’s Palo Alto like for the summer?”

She came to stand beside him in a waft of perfumed air and began to stack recyclables into a cardboard box.

“It’s nice,” she said, after a moment. “I like my research work, and my friends at the university. It was an adjustment at first, with so many people around.” She paused, holding a bottle in delicate hands. “You’d think it would be obvious that people do die in greater numbers in bigger cities.”

“I can’t imagine.”

“Mm.” She seemed to shake herself out of a train of thought, and set the bottle down. “It caught me off guard at first, but I am learning more about myself as a result, surprisingly. And I’m not alone. We made contact with a pack in the city on Derek’s suggestion, and their emissary is very worldly.”

“And hopefully a little less cryptic than Deaton ever was,” Stiles remarked. He hooked an arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side. “I’m glad, though. You seem happy, even if you have to deal with Jackson on a daily basis.”

At that, Lydia snorted lightly. “Not quite on a daily basis. He asked to move in with me this summer, and I said no. I love him, but he needs to learn some patience, and I have more important things to think about right now.”

“That’s my girl.”

She hummed in agreement, leaning a head on his shoulder. “You seem different too.”

“Not worse, I hope.”

“No. Settled, maybe.”

“Yeah, turns out committed romance might kind of be my thing.” He laughed, a bit self-deprecatingly. “Not what anyone would have thought about me back in high school.”

“I like you two together,” Lydia said, simply.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too." Stiles nodded to himself. “We’re taking it slow, but, uh… It’s good. Really good.”

Back outside, the group was enjoying the last quiet moments of a successful pack night. Scott, Danny, and Isaac were passing someone’s phone back and forth, snickering like a gaggle of preteen boys at whatever they were looking at. Erica and Boyd were, unsurprisingly, canoodling on the same log bench. Lydia sat and snuggled into Jackson’s side, plucking the remnants of a melted s’more from his fingers, and Stiles himself walked slightly past the pit to join Derek where he sat further away with his back to the fire, watching the lake calmly, one leg dangling over the bluff’s edge.

“Hey there, sourwolf,” Stiles said, dropping down onto the grass. “Brooding or just contemplating life?”

Derek shook his head, dark eyes soft as he gazed out into the night. “Neither, really. Just feeling relaxed. It feels good when more of us are together. I like it.”

“It does feel better,” Stiles agreed.

“It feels like family. Like home.” Derek took Stiles hand. “Uh. It wasn’t on purpose, but I could hear some of what you and Lydia were talking about inside.”

Stiles made a noncommittal sound. “I’ve been running around with werewolves for going on four years now. I know nothing I say in the immediate vicinity is secret.”

“I just...” Derek quietened, seeming to need to organize his thoughts. Stiles gave him a moment, tilting his head back to scan the few constellations he knew in the sky above.

“I wanted to ask if you’d come home with me tonight,” Derek said, finally.

Stiles drew his gaze down again and sat up straight.

“Home as in hang out, watch an episode of something, and fall asleep in your bed together? ‘Cause we’ve done that,” Stiles pointed out. “Like, lots of times. Or, do you mean home as in… More?”

“More,” Derek confirmed, with a half smile. “If you want to.”

Stiles spluttered and flailed a little. “If I _want_ to? Derek. I’ve only been waiting for you to snatch up my v-card and rip it to shreds with your claws for the past, like, two years now. At _least._ You don’t even have to ask, man. If there weren’t five other supernatural beings hanging around, I’d climb you like a tree right here, right now.”

“Get it, Stilinski!” Jackson hollered from back by the fire pit.

“You wish you could!” Stiles shot over his shoulder. To Derek, more quietly, “You’re serious, though? This isn’t just because I told Lydia we were taking things slow? It wasn’t a complaint.”

“No, I know,” Derek said. “I’ve actually been thinking about it for the past little while. And, I’m sorry this isn’t some crazy, big, romantic gesture, or anything like that.”

Stiles smiled a smile so big his cheeks almost hurt. “Are you kidding? You just proposed to taking my virginity later tonight while we’re sitting by a lake in the glowing firelight with cicadas chirping and the stars above and everything.”

Derek made a face. “Glowing?”

“Yes, glowing. This couldn’t be more romantic if you’d tried to set it up yourself.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles said, fondly. “I know you.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Erica called. “We’re getting cold, come help us clean up.”

Stiles huffed and rocked to his feet, holding out a hand. “Duty calls, my man.”

Derek took the offered hand to stand, kissed Stiles quickly, and turned join the rest of the pack in gathering up bottles and blankets and various other bits of refuse. As everyone made their way inside, Scott stopped to stomp out the remains of the fire before joining the group in the kitchen, locking the sliding door behind him. Stiles shivered involuntarily in the warmth of the house; he hadn’t noticed the drop in temperature outside since the sun had set.

“No drunk drivers on my watch,” Lydia stated firmly, ushering everyone towards the front door. “Danny?”

“Isaac’s giving me a ride.”

“Good. Stiles?”

“With Derek. Also, I only had one beer.”

“Great. You can leave the Jeep overnight.”

After plenty of hugs and back thumps and promises to meet up at least once more before any visiting pack members left town again, Stiles found himself dropping into the passenger seat of the Camaro, letting out a slow breath to quell the slight flicker of nerves in his belly. He faintly heard Derek walk around the car before the driver’s side door opened and the older man slid in to sit. He slotted the keys into the ignition, then paused.

“You good to go?”

Stiles took another breath, fingers digging into his thighs. “Yeah. You?”

In answer, Derek pressed a foot to the clutch and turned the key, sliding the gear shift smoothly into reverse.


	2. after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fun is had post-bonfire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here be sexytimes

Derek had been renting a two-bedroom apartment close by Beacon Hill’s town centre since Stiles’ senior year of high school. Stiles had visited in many capacities: as a concerned pack member, as a tentative friend, as a new boyfriend. He’d poured over police reports at the stylish coffee table in the main room and washed questionable supernatural substances from his hands at the sleek marble counter in the bathroom and lounged on the low futon mattress in the bedroom many, many times.

Walking into the apartment behind Derek after the pack bonfire, Stiles couldn’t help but revisit parts of these memories with fondness. Life had changed so completely since starting university, and it was nice to be reminded, every now and then, of how far everyone had come and how much they’d all survived together.

Derek moved through the master bedroom and living room to turn various lamps on and shuck off his jacket before coming back to Stiles' side and drawing him close.

“Hey,” he said, nosing at Stiles’ temple.

“Hi,” Stiles replied. He turned in Derek’s hold and linked his arms around the other’s waist. Leaning closer, he angled to catch Derek’s lips with his own lightly, letting out a surprised noise as Derek immediately responded, kissing back firmly, hands coming up to hold Stiles’ head. They quickly yielded to each other, mouths opening, tongues teasing. Stiles found himself bending slightly at the waist with the force of Derek’s want, and he couldn’t help the soft groan that escaped him as teeth tugged at his lower lip, nipping with blatant but carefully restrained hunger.

The need for air eventually drove Stiles to break away to the side, baring his neck. Derek didn’t miss a beat, turning his attention to the delicate skin under Stiles’ jaw.

“Jesus,” Stiles said, breathless. “You’re not wasting any time.”

“I want you,” Derek replied plainly, sucking what Stiles hoped would be an obvious love bite under his ear. “I always want you.”

“Keep saying shit like that, you’re gonna inflate a guy’s ego.”

Stiles dragged their mouths back together and suddenly remembered he had hands, immediately sliding his fingers under the back of Derek’s t-shirt to get a taste of the miles of smooth, hot skin awaiting him. Stiles was no stranger to a half-naked Derek. They’d done their fair share of heated making out in the two months that Stiles had been home for the summer, but he’d always been careful not to push things, attuned to subtle signals from Derek that they needed to dial things back.

Now, the prospect of finally seeing and having all of his incredibly attractive boyfriend for the first time was short-circuiting Stiles’ brain. He couldn’t be bothered to think much further than where he wanted to put his hands and mouth next.

Derek suddenly disappeared from his grasp, causing Stiles' eyes to fly open as he stumbled forward.

“Wha-”

“Come on.”

He was being tugged by the hand towards the door to Derek’s room.

“Oh. Yes. Good thinking.”

Lit in a gentle orange glow, the bedroom was as cozy and tidy as it always was, though it did entertain Stiles to picture Derek cleaning up in anticipation of the night’s activities.

“I almost half expected flower petals and smooth jazz,” he commented, flinging off his shirt and dropping onto the mattress. He came to kneel in the centre of the bedspread and raised an eyebrow when Derek stayed standing just inside the doorway, watching with a small smile. “What?”

“You’re stunning.”

“You stop that, right now.”

“I’m not kidding,” Derek said, expression turning more serious as he kneeled on mattress.

Any more teasing words died in Stiles throat, and all he could do was reach out a hand. Derek pulled off his own shirt and threw it to the side, and then they were crashing together again.

It wasn’t long before Stiles was flat on his back, six feet of Derek Hale moving over him, settling solidly between his thighs. Usually at this point, he’d be struggling to hold himself back, but now there was nothing stopping him from planting his heels on the bed and pushing upwards. Derek quickly caught on, hitching Stiles' thigh up and rolling his own hips down with clear intent, causing Stiles to drop his head back and moan properly.

“Fuck, you sound so good like this,” Derek murmured, dragging his mouth across Stiles’ collarbone and down the centre of his chest.

“Shit, Derek- _Mm.”_

“You okay?”

“Yeah. _Ah._ Feels good.”

Derek continued on his path, completely focused on pressing teasing kisses down the soft lines of Stiles’ abs and over the crests of his hipbones. Stiles, for once, remained quiet as he propped himself up on his elbows to watch, increasingly aware as they steadily approached unexplored territory. With a final lick just above the waist of Stiles’ jeans, Derek lifted his head.

“I really want to suck you off,” he said, voice low.

“Absolutely, whatever you want,” Stiles breathed. “Just please don’t be surprised if this is over really, really fast.”

“I think I might be more flattered than surprised.”

As Derek pushed himself up to undo and slide off Stiles’ pants, Stiles flopped back on the bed, snorted and tossed an arm over his eyes. “You severely overestimate my self control, dude.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Derek said. “Lift your hips.”

With his jeans and underwear tossed to the floor, Stiles had a sudden moment of clarity when he realized it was the first time he’d ever been naked with someone else. He dropped a hand to his dick mostly out of habit as Derek backed off of the bed to get rid of the rest of his clothes. Stiles then promptly forgot all about his moment of shyness.

If Derek was attractive without a shirt on, he was unquestionably beautiful completely nude. His thighs rippled with strength as he lifted his foot to pull off a sock. The lines of his muscled abdomen continued down his hips to frame a gorgeous cock standing out from a patch of well-groomed pubic hair, and, when Derek turned to toss clothes into a laundry hamper, Stiles got his first good look at his boyfriend’s ass.

“Fuck me,” Stiles said dreamily. He then froze, brain catching up with his mouth. Derek turned back to him and laughed out loud.

“Maybe not tonight,” he said, still chuckling as he lay on the bed between Stiles’ legs again. He brought his forearms up to cradle the younger man’s thighs.

“Yeah, maybe not to- _night._ Oh _, shit.”_

Derek had gone right to work without warning, dragging his tongue up Stiles’ dick from root to tip and taking the head into his mouth to suckle gently. He set up an easy rhythm, taking more and more into his mouth with each bob of his head, teeth expertly covered, tongue joining in to flick under the crown each time he pulled back.

“Jesus,” Stiles moaned. “Oh my god.” His hands clutched at empty air, eyes closed in pure bliss. Reality was so much better than any fantasy he’d ever come up with regarding Derek’s mouth and his own cock. This was freaking amazing.

As he’d predicted, it took no time at all for a telltale tingling to start pooling in his lower stomach, the need for release building with each practiced movement of Derek’s head.

“Shit, Derek. I’m gonna come, like, real soon.”

Derek released one of Stiles’ thighs to grab at his hand, squeezing in encouragement. He continued steadily as Stiles’ breath quickened, stomach tensing, toes curling.

“Fuck. Oh, fuck. Shit, Derek, Derek, _Derek-”_

His orgasm rushed through him in a blinding wave, cock pulsing in Derek’s mouth as he spent himself completely. The pleasure crested and lingered, only gradually diminishing after a long moment into aftershocks that had his legs twitching helplessly. Stiles shivered as Derek carefully drew back, having not spilled a single drop of his release.

Stiles let out a heavy breath, still clutching Derek’s hand tightly. “Okay. You’re gonna have to teach me how to do that at some point.”

“Gladly,” Derek said, getting to his knees. His voice was delightfully raw.

“You want some help with that?” Stiles asked, watching as Derek curled a hand around his own dick and began to stroke.

“No need. This won’t take long.” He leaned forwards, bracing himself on a hand beside Stiles’ head. “Just kiss me.”

Stiles happily obliged, surged up to lick into Derek’s mouth, tasting something curiously salty on his tongue. _That was me_ , he thought wildly, and he then gasped as warm liquid spilled on his chest, Derek’s deep groan loud against his lips.

They stilled for a moment, breathing into each other’s mouths, eyes locked, before Derek shifted slightly to rest on his side. He brought up a clean hand to brush slowly through Stiles’ hair.

“So,” he said.

“So.” Stiles grinned, feeling a bit loopy. “That was awesome.”

Derek hummed, content. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“I definitely did. Did you?”

“I think you’ll find the evidence all over you.”

Stiles glanced down at himself. “Ugh. Yuck.”

“Mhm. That’s sex,” Derek said, stretching out an arm for the box of tissues on his bedside table. “Messy stuff.”

“Cool,” Stiles said in awe, poking at the stripes of white on his skin with curious fingers. He was no stranger to being covered in his own come, but there was something novel about the mess being someone else's.

A few minutes later, after they’d sufficiently cleaned up, Stiles nestled under the covers and rested his head on Derek’s shoulder. Derek lifted an arm to accommodate him and draped it over Stiles’ waist while gazing up at the ceiling.

“Thank you,” he said, after a quiet moment.

“I should be thanking you.”

“No, I mean… Thank you for being patient.”

“Oh. You don’t have to thank me for that.” Stiles yawned, cuddling in as close as he could manage, sliding a leg between Derek’s. “I would have waited a lot longer, you know,” he mumbled, eyes closing. “If you’d needed.”

He fell asleep not long after that, barely noticing the ghost of Derek’s grateful kiss brushed against his forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and they all went for brunch the next morning. stiles made a lot of sausage themed jokes. nice


End file.
